


Does a mage have a soul?

by SkyOfDust



Series: Take my soul [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:44:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4882597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyOfDust/pseuds/SkyOfDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have no idea where this comes from. It's really weird and very far from what I've ever written before. It just needed to get out of my head.<br/>I think it's the 'Mass Effect' effect. I've seen Tali kill Legion with this terrible question "Does this unit have a soul?" and the answer is YES, of course and it's terribly heartbreaking and I'm dead inside and I needed to write something. So here we are.<br/>It's not 'real' Fenders but when  wrote it, I don't know, I imagined it like there was something SO important happening between them.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Does a mage have a soul?

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this comes from. It's really weird and very far from what I've ever written before. It just needed to get out of my head.  
> I think it's the 'Mass Effect' effect. I've seen Tali kill Legion with this terrible question "Does this unit have a soul?" and the answer is YES, of course and it's terribly heartbreaking and I'm dead inside and I needed to write something. So here we are.  
> It's not 'real' Fenders but when wrote it, I don't know, I imagined it like there was something SO important happening between them.

“Does a mage have a soul, Fenris?” Anders asked as he raised his staff, looking at the Chantry.

“What?” the elf answered, distracted by Hawke talking to Sebastian about the pleasure of the deepest sins.

“Are we punished by the Creator, for nothing more than been born? Are we punished by our own people, for nothing more than being what we are? Or are we punished by everyone, because everyone is mistaken? Do I have a soul, Fenris? When I die, were will I go? Soon, my Calling will come and everything will be over. I can't wait for this all to be too late.”

Fenris looked at the mage, who was still staring at the Chantry, his face unreadable, but his eyes burning with doubt. His hair was moving with the wind, but his staff stood firmly on the ground, a determined hand holding it straight in front of the symbol of the oppression.

“Does a mage have something more than the Circle, after all? Than a place like the Gallows? What about stories read by a mother near the fire? What about a sister cuddling a boy scared by the storm? What about a father who...”

Anders stopped talking and his gaze turned to look at Fenris. He couldn't say why, but the warrior felt his heart hammering in his chest. Maybe something stirred a bit inside, too. Hearing the mage talking about things he could not remember and yet craved for. Memories he had not. Memories the mage had. Memories that seemed to torture them both.

“Mage...” Fenris whispered.

It was cold this day. The breeze was strong, the clouds were dark. Maybe it would rain soon.

“They took the children. They took innocent scared children. They stole humanity from them when they failed in their Harrowing. How many times have you failed, Fenris? Were you not given a second chance?”

“I...” Fenris began, but his voice died in his throat.

This question did not require an answer.

“Once, I was a child. A normal boy. What did I do to deserve this fate? And what did you do, Fenris, to deserve yours?”

Again, Anders' gaze locked up on the Chantry. Fenris never noticed it before, but it was like the building was crushing them from above.

“You said the Maker didn't give you your freedom. That you were the one taking it. Why wouldn't I take mine?”

“Mage, freedom...”

“...is no boon?” he asked with a sad smile. “Maybe. The reasons why I fight: I cannot understand them. I just remember the look in my father's eyes. I just remember the blood on my hands after I killed Karl. I just remember Hawke entering my clinic with a broody elf who claimed how evil mages were. How evil I was. I don't feel like evil. I like flowers in the spring. And the laugh of a child in the dark streets of Darktown. I like looking at the sky when it rains, and at the dust in the sun. I like the touch of other lips on mine, and the way my heart beats so fast when I think about it. I don't feel like evil” he repeated, suddenly looking down. “I wished I knew why the world despises me so much. Why you despise me so much. You would have me dead and it feels like the world won't cry at the loss.”

The elf stepped forward. One single step. It wasn't enough. He knew what it was all about: goodbyes, of course. Death was near, for one of them. Maybe all of them.

“Mage, there is one thing I'm sure of : when you're gone, the whole world will be darker.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I know it's short and mostly useless but hey, not everyone can pretend to be talented for such things. I'm happy I wrote it anyway, even if it's not worth anything.  
> Feel free to comment, of course.


End file.
